


Marshmallow Kisses

by crookedcig, seekeronthepath



Series: Omegle: Surprisingly Awesome [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Feels, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Trans Character, Trans Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4986133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedcig/pseuds/crookedcig, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekeronthepath/pseuds/seekeronthepath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles just wanted to make Derek feel safe for a while. Hence the epic pillow fort. Then there was the unexpected feels reveal. Which led to kissing. And also other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marshmallow Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> It should be fairly obvious, but in the texting section, Derek is on the left and Stiles on the right.

Please stop trying to set me up with people

I may be single, but I'm not looking

Dude it's a crime for you to be single.

A CRIME.

FELONY. Federal offense.

Then you're going to have to get me arrested again, because I don't. want. a date.

C'mon sourwolf. Am I just not nailing your type?

Where, exactly, are you getting your concept of my 'type' from?

I mean, I'm kinda relying on what I know about Paige, Kate, and Jennifer. But without...the homicidal bits.

You're missing some things, yes

Ok, so tell me.

I did actually date in New York

Not very successfully

But Hannah, Joseph, Cassie, Erin, and Tom all had one thing in common

They were as unlike Kate as they could get

/All/ of Kate is a bad memory

Not that that's why I'm not following up on those people you keep sending my way

But stop basing your guesses on her, it's weird and uncomfortable

Ok a) fair point. But b) Every time I ask you about New York you scowl and run away. Also c) I had no clue I could be branching out to include some dudes so that's a game changer.

But d) most importantly, why AREN'T you following up on those people?

Because, like I said, I'm not looking

I'd rather be single right now

Ok but why? Is this a "I want to work on me" thing or a "I'm Derek and I don't deserve to be happy" thing? Because if it's the former, I'll back the fuck off. But you deserve to be like over the moon happy dude.

And I'd like to contribute to that in some way.

You do plenty

By being a spaz and generally annoying you? Pffft not good enough.

You're not a spaz and you don't /just/ annoy me

Although the dates are annoying

Ok, I'll cut it out. But I'm serious. I'll make cookies. Anything. I just want like four seconds of you not scowling.

Am I that bad?

Not all the time. But yeah, pretty much.

I think I'm the only person who can read your facial expressions.

Oh.

That wasn't a complaint or anything.

Okay

I'm not...it's a habit

Oh I know. And it's a good habit for you because it totally protects you most of the time.

Which is good.

After the fire, I didn't like how easily Kate had manipulated me, and I didn't like how easily she'd read me. So I stopped showing my emotions on the surface much

Laura could always tell anyway, so it wasn't an issue

Do you miss her?

I mean duh of course you do. But I wish I'd known her so I could tell what you missed about her.

For a long time after she died, the thing I remembered best was the way she made me feel protected

I'm glad I can remember more things about her now

She was always going to be an alpha - she was bossy even when she was seven and I was five

She had a habit of...meddling, I guess

Kind of like you

We were very co-dependent, for a while there

I needed her so much, and she was focused on that to keep herself from falling apart

By the time she died, we'd both branched out a bit - we each had our work friends, and our college friends

On bad nights, she'd shift - she could do the full wolf, it was amazing - and curl up around me

 

I think you should come over and watch Star Wars with me.

...okay

I have marshmallows and sugary cereal and a pillow fort. Come over.

Okay.

\-----

It was a good pillow fort. He'd completely deconstructed the sofa over the course of the afternoon, pulled almost every pillow off the beds, even gone so far as to find his dad's old camping mattress and inflate it to provide a nice wide base the size of a double bed. There were mounds of blankets and a couple of chairs propping the whole thing up, but it looked like the most crazed bedding cave imaginable and it was perfect. Well, perfect but for being currently empty while Stiles yanked on a pair of pajama pants and one of his dad's BHPD sweatshirts that was probably older than Stiles himself. Getting a picture of the whole set up, complete with a bowl of marshmallows, Stiles sent the picture to Derek with a grin. He couldn't bring Laura back. But he could do his best to make Derek feel safe.

Derek knocked on the front door. He was really glad he didn't have to sneak in all the time anymore. He liked being 'normal'. When Stiles didn't answer it, he tried the handle, found the door unlocked, and sought out Stiles' heartbeat - his scent was too entrenched in the house for Derek to use it to track him. The living room looked just as ridiculous in real life as it had in the picture Stiles had texted him - completely covered in blankets and cushions, in a haphazard-looking way that, nonetheless, Derek knew had some underlying structure that made sense to Stiles. He looked around for somewhere to sit. "I assume I can't wear my boots in there?" he asked.

"Dude, the fact that you are wearing anything other than pajamas in the pillow fort is a fucking abomination." Levelling a mock glare at Derek, Stiles burrowed further under a pile of blankets and set his eyes on the screen. Remote in hand, he hit a couple buttons and the blaring brass blast of the opening sequence of Star Wars: A New Hope filled the room. Stiles shoved two whole marshmallows in his mouth and hummed around them happily, flipping some blankets up to show Derek where he was supposed to sit. "Get in here, dude. You're going to miss all my scintillating commentary out there."

Derek suppressed a grin at Stiles' glare, and took off his boots and jacket. "Jeans and a Henley is going to have to do," he replied. "And I don't know if you understand the concept of watching a movie: you're supposed to listen, not talk." Surrendering to whatever prompted this ridiculousness, he flicked the lights off and slid into the spot next to Stiles. "And since when are marshmallows movie food?" It was actually really comfortable. You could say that for Stiles, Derek mused, when he got a crazy idea in his head, he committed. From the mixture of scents, he must have collected things from all over the house to build this. It was really comfortable.

Gasping in fake incredulity, Stiles shook his head. "Marshmallows are the perfect movie food when I'm five and all my dad wanted was for me to shut the hell up and watch Jurassic Park without interrupting. They fill the mouth well." Grinning at that, Stiles settled into his warm little burrow and pushed the blanket up over Derek's legs and belly, folding him effortlessly into his construction. "There are also stashes of Reese's Puffs and French Toast Crunch in baggies tucked in random places. And some chips and dip. Melissa wouldn't make me any more guac this week because she's cruel."

"Should I be worried about squashing something?" Derek asked, raising his eyebrows. "I don't want to accidentally sit in the dip." Somehow it didn't surprise him that shutting Stiles up had historically been a major factor in his parents' choice of movie snack. "You know, I have a suspicion that you've learned how to talk around marshmallows in the intervening years."

"Just blame Pop for the oral fixation, that's all." Waggling his eyebrows suggestively, teasing, Stiles curled closer to Derek's heat and turned his eyes back to the screen. Shushing the other man melodramatically, he sort of...floated, for a while, a little too much sugar and aching nostalgia making him quiet and...not quite maudlin, but he was quiet, and that was weird. About a third of the way into the movie, he shifted his weight, bumping their elbows together, and turned, tugging at the pillow behind Derek's shoulder so he could rest his head on it. "I love this movie."

****

Derek found himself watching Stiles as much as the movie. His heart ached. Stiles looked so...content, but not. For all that he'd promised 'scintillating commentary', he was quiet. Derek had a feeling he was remembering something, maybe. He tried not to disturb him, just sat, a quiet, steady - comforting, he hoped - presence by Stiles' side. When at last Stiles moved, Derek hid a sigh of relief, and shifted as well, to accommodate him. He leaned in, pressing his side up against Stiles', relishing the contact. "It's a good movie," he replied softly.

"My mom loved this movie. Like...maybe not a healthy amount. It's how she taught my babcia English, she would play all three of them over and over and they'd talk about the characters and recite lines together. I dressed up as a Stormtrooper when I was seven and she dressed up as Leia in the white robe and kept telling me I was a little short." A sigh heaved his chest, crackling with emotions he didn't normally take out and look at...but Derek had shared a lot about Laura. More than he usually did, by a long shot. So Stiles wanted to share, too. It didn't make it any easier, and he turned onto his side a bit more, closing his eyes and hiding his face against Derek's arm for a moment.

Derek moved to put his arm around Stiles' shoulders, holding him in a half-hug. "My little sister went trick-or-treating as a werewolf from the first year she could shift until the year she died. My little brother always went as a vampire instead. He didn't learn to shift just his fangs until he was nine, so he had to wear plastic ones at first. He hated them so much, but he couldn't resist the joke." The smell of grief was heavy in the air around them. "I imagine you were a very cute Stormtrooper."

"I was the cutest Stormtrooper." Hiccupping out a soggy laugh that was just on the verge of tears, Stiles burrowed into Derek's side and, after a moment, let one arm slide along the other man's belly, just sort of...resting there. "What did you dress up as?" It was strange, knowing that they'd lived in the same town for most of their lives, just far apart enough in age that they never interacted. Stiles remembered classes with Cora, long ago before things had...gotten bad. Remembered his mom and Talia chatting at the grocery store.

Derek rubbed Stiles' back gently. Even though he couldn't see Stiles' face, he could taste the salt in the air, and tactile comfort had always been the only kind that came naturally to him. "I went as a lot of different things," Derek said. "There was one year when we all went as werewolves, before David got into the whole vampire thing." He smiled sadly. He'd learnt to accept his family's deaths - or, not to accept them, but he'd grieved them for a long time already. Apart from Laura, he could remember them happily as well as sadly, now. "I went as Harry Potter the year I was eleven."

That had Stiles' head coming up sharply. "Oh my God you're the boy who lived." Blinking a few times, cheeks flushed out of a strange mixture of excitement and shame that he was this spun up about it, Stiles shook his head and gripped Derek's shoulders tightly. "You're totally Harry Potter, the fact that I didn't pick up on it until now is inexcusable." Grinning broadly, the movie mostly forgotten and providing background noise and Stiles nearly tipped over when the blanket proved to be wound tightly around his hips, the young man laughed, deep and throaty. "And I'm totally Malfoy. Here just to annoy the crap out of you and mutter your name under my breath while I pretend I’m not like totally in love with you." Giggling manically now, Stiles rubbed at his face, not really aware of what he'd just said

Derek drew in a shocked breath. Did Stiles mean...? Derek had never even let himself imagine that Stiles could like him back. The risk of it scared him too much. He'd never met anyone that appealed so much to all of him - to the wolf, not just the man. Stiles was pack, was protective, was capable...he just smelled right. And that compatibility, right from the start, well, it was the sort of thing 'wolves told stories about. It had frustrated him at first, back when he thought Stiles was a stubborn, clumsy idiot, but now...now he cared far too much to hope. But Stiles had said... "I'd rather you weren't Malfoy," Derek said at last, in the best approximation of his normal tone that he could manage. "You're not my enemy at all."

"Pffft, like Harry and Draco were ever actually enemies. They were super gay for each other the whole time, but Draco had all this bullshit and he was so fragile. Like broken into billions of little pieces and so torn up about wanting to make his family happy. You know what, maybe I'm not Malfoy, even if I do annoy and mutter a lot.." Pulling a face, Stiles flopped back down and tucked himself tight up against Derek's side, getting both arms around the wolf's ribcage this time. "Lydia is clearly Hermione. I really don't wanna be Ron though, I'd make a terrible ginger." Squeezing Derek's middle gently, Stiles closed his eyes again and pressed his nose against the older man's side, feeling...well, better than he had in a long time. Less uncertain.

Derek's heart clenched when Stiles talked about Draco being broken, and he heaved a silent sigh of relief when Stiles abandoned the comparison. God, he just wanted to wrap him up in his arms and hold him. "You're not Ron. I like your hair the way it is." Smiling a little, he teased, "You could be Luna. She's Ravenclaw."

"We both know I'm a Slytherin, c'mon." Rolling his eyes a little, Stiles shifted his posture and propped his chin on Derek's stomach, looking up at the other man. "I'm the guy that does the shit no one else wants to. I'm about getting shit done even when it's not...pretty or heroic." Shrugging one shoulder, Stiles sighed and pursed his lips a little. "Maybe that's why I always sort of like...I didn't identify with Draco, but I sympathized with him. And his mom, especially. It's not easy being the person who's willing to do terrible things for the people you love." He was doing a pretty good job not thinking about the nemeton and the time he'd...you know...tried to kill everybody.

Derek rubbed a hand over Stiles' back, frowning. "No, it's not," he said, slowly. “I hadn't thought of it that way...you as a Slytherin. Your curiosity has always seemed like such a defining feature, a core part of you. But you're right: we rely on you to make the hard choices, to do the expedient thing. We need you, to balance Scott - his morals are important, but they're also naïve. You're the one who makes sure it won't backfire on him, on all of us." Derek frowned more. "That doesn't seem fair on you.

Stiles went very still at that and blinked a few times, turning his head and slowly sitting up. Not because he wanted distance between the two of them (he didn't, not at all, he mourned the loss of Derek's heat like it was a limb) but because he wanted the other man to see his face, to be forced to make eye contact. Tangling their hands together and squeezing tightly, Stiles shook his head once, firmly. "Fair isn't something that factors into our lives, Der. Fair isn't..." He struggled with the words for a minute. "Fair is for fairy tales. I'm so happy to make the hard decisions if it means keeping you alive." On instinct, not allowing himself the time to hesitate, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

Derek froze for a moment when Stiles wrapped his arms around him, before melting into his embrace. It had been so long since he had been hugged like this: comforting, consoling, protective, a hug that said 'It's okay now, I'm here'. He clenched his fists in Stiles' sweatshirt, holding him tightly, and shut his eyes tight so he could pretend there weren't tears in them. The scent of Stiles, wrapped around him like this, was like a balm, and he bit his lip to keep from pouring out everything he was feeling. "As...as long as it keeps you alive, too," Derek said hoarsely, when he finally managed to speak.

Feeling the big wolf tremble a little against him made Stiles worry for a moment, fearful he'd done the wrong thing. But then Derek was clinging just a little and they'd gotten even more tangled up in the blankets and each other and they were warm and safe and everything was ok for now. "Oh, Sourwolf. C'mon." Leaning back just a little, Stiles shook his head and tried to tease, swallowing past something painful and sharp in his throat. "You know you can't get rid of me that easily, right?" Tears were gathering along Derek's insane lashes (seriously, they were criminal what the fuck) and Stiles brushed his thumb over the other man's cheek gently.

The nickname, the promise, the little tenderness of the caress - it was all too much, and Derek couldn't hold back a sob. He didn't try to explain, didn't try to run, just sat there, clinging to Stiles like an anchor (he was an anchor) in a storm, and let the tears fall. It had been so long since he'd cried. Almost never, since Laura died. But right now, in this moment...Stiles had made him feel safe. And...and loved. And even if it, even if it was just pack-love, friendship, it was worth so, so much, and Derek just...couldn't.

"Okay. Okay, I know." And he did. More than anybody else in the pack, he knew that bone-deep ache, the sense of loss that lingered even years later. He knew what it was to be a little boy that lost too much too early and spent the rest of his life trying to backfill the holes without entirely being successful. Wrapping his arms tight around Derek again, he pulled the big wolf close, pressed his face against Stiles' neck and rocked a little. "I've got you. It's okay." And that was all, it seemed, he needed to say for the moment, turning and pressing his mouth against Derek's dark hair in a not-quite-kiss and holding him in one piece as best he could.

****

They sat there for a long time, Stiles quietly soothing Derek as he released some of the grief of all the losses of the last few years, and the older aches that haunted him still. Eventually, Derek pulled back a little, sniffing. "Sorry," he muttered. "Your neck's all wet." He wiped his eyes with his thumb, taking a few more shuddering breaths, and leaned back in to hug Stiles again, this time gratefully, fervently, comfortingly, rather than in desperate need. "Thank you," he murmured softly. "I...I think I needed that."

"Dude, wet neck is like...so far down on the list of things that have gone wrong for me in the past two years. Don't worry about it." When Derek leaned back, Stiles inspected his face, judged the looser body language, and felt good that he'd been able to help Derek in even a small way like this. "I keep telling Scott that Star Wars works miracles but he refuses to listen to me. This is proof positive, right here." Squeezing Derek hard, arms and shoulders flexing, Stiles sighed softly and rubbed his fingers along the soft patch of skin on the back of Derek's neck. "Whenever you need, Der, I'm here. I lo--" Catching himself, clearing his throat, he sighed. "I'm here."

"It's not the movie, Stiles," Derek said, smiling weakly. "It's you. Thank you." He looked into Stiles' eyes, searching. "Stiles..." he began, hesitantly. "That's twice now. That you...that you've sort of said you...you love me." Derek didn't want to hope, didn't want to lose hope, but he was starting to think there was more to it than that, that Stiles might mean it, that Derek might have...some sort of a chance.

He wasn't a pretty blusher. Derek blushed like a Disney prince, but Stiles just went red and blotchy and awkward from his neck up to his hairline. Clearing his throat again, he licked his lips and didn't look away, let Derek see him. Really see him, serious and quiet and desperately trying not to be nervous or let panic or his ADHD ruin anything. "I mean, I do. I sort of thought that was obvious, but maybe I'm not quite as socially inept as I thought?" Derek was looking at him like...well, like he might want Stiles to love him. As more than pack, more than brothers or whatever, and Stiles' heart started slamming against his ribs like it wanted to get out and crawl in next to Derek's. "I love you." Whispered, barely audible, Stiles tensed as the words sat heavy between them.

A broad smile began to grow on Derek's face, disbelieving joy welling up inside him. "I never thought I'd get to hear that," he murmured. "God, Stiles. I never dreamed..." Derek closed his eyes for a moment, took a breath, and brushed his lips over Stiles'. Lightly, carefully, but with every bit of the tenderness he'd been hiding for so very, very long. "I love you, Stiles." Then, just because he could, Derek kissed him again. "You might have been obvious, I don't know...I wasn't trying to see. Hope hurt too much."

Smiling. Oh God, Derek was pretty when he smiled, like this heartbreaking thing that Stiles couldn't really believe he was lucky enough to see, let alone cause. And then there was kissing. Kissing was really good. Not as good as hearing Derek say that he loved Stiles back, tacking his name on the end just in case he got confused and thought he was talking to someone else. But there had to be more kissing, kissing was fucking awesome and Stiles leaned in to press their mouths together again, humming softly. "It would have been way more badass if you'd just said ‘I know.’ Total Han Solo pants-dropper right there." Grinning into Derek's mouth, Stiles sort of...well, he didn't crawl up into Derek's lap, but it was a close thing.

Grinning didn't make for the best kisses, but Derek couldn't stop. "I couldn't have said that," Derek replied. "I didn't know. And I don't want you ever to doubt that I love you back." He cut off Stiles' reply with a deeper kiss, exploring Stiles' mouth, which tasted...like marshmallows. Derek laughed a little. At Stiles' indignant look, he explained, "No, I'm not laughing at you, it's just...marshmallows. I'm never going to be able to forget you eat marshmallows when you watch movies, now."

"Good, that means you'll buy me more! I'm a growing boy, Der-bear, I need a shit-ton of marshmallows." Blushing again, eyes dropping to Derek's mouth, Stiles shrugged. "Though I guess now after our grand confessions you've got a way more fun way to get me to shut up." Leaning in, he caught Derek's lower lip in his teeth and shuddered, tugging at it and sliding his fingers up into the older man's hair to hold him still. "More kissing, less laughing."

"As you wish," Derek teased, then captured Stiles' mouth before he could reply. Stiles' fingers felt so good in his hair, and his body felt so good under Derek's (increasingly roaming) hands. He licked into Stiles' mouth, pressing closer every moment, catching and nipping at his lips, sucking on Stiles' tongue...he lost himself in kissing, until he was panting for breath.

Oh that mother-fucker, dropping a Princess Bride line like it was no big deal, like it wouldn't get Stiles squirming and his heart fluttering. The roaming hands were sort of new for him, particularly as possessive and insistent as they felt on Stiles' skin, pulling him always closer to Derek. After a few long minutes (not long enough though) of hot and heavy, Stiles finally pushed away from Derek, his chest heaving and his skin flushed. "Wait. Um. Wait I should uh..." Derek had melted his brain.

****

Derek froze. Stiles seemed...anxious, suddenly. Had Derek done something wrong? Was there some unspoken boundary he'd crossed? Had he been too insistent, too enthusiastic, too pushy? He'd just been so...so happy. But Stiles was anxious, so something was wrong. He pulled back, letting Stiles have some space. "Stiles..." he said hesitantly. "Are you...did I do something?"

"No!" Taking a deep breath, worried about the fear he saw on Derek's face, Stiles shook his head and cupped the other's cheeks in his long hands, peppering his lips with light kisses. "No, no, you didn't do anything I just want..." Okay, so words were still kinda difficult with lust ruling every inch of his body. "I wanted to make sure you know...about me?" Gesturing vaguely at his crotch, he blushed a little bit. He'd always assumed all of the werewolves knew, with their noses and whatnot, but who the hell knows anymore what they could and couldn't smell.

Derek sighed in relief when Stiles started kissing him again. He hadn't done anything wrong, Stiles just...wanted to tell him something, first. That was okay. Then he started to actually think about Stiles' question. What did he expect Derek to know about him? There were so many things Derek might not know, and he certainly couldn't think of anything he knew that could be described as *vague crotch gesture*. "I...don't think so?" Derek said at last. "I mean, I don't know what you're referring to, so I'm guessing that I don't."

Blinking hard and fast, like he had to reboot his brain a little bit, Stiles shook his head and blew out a breath. Assuming everyone knew had been easier, because it meant that any rejection he faced was because people didn't like him not because they were bigoted assholes. But this was important and he had to trust Derek not to be a dick or freak out or whatever. Besides, he'd totally dated men and women, right? Not like he wasn't familiar with the parts. "I'm trans. I figured with the..." Tapping his nose, he shrugged again. "That the pack knew." Okay, so there was the second really big confession of the evening. He was going to need a nap soon.

"Oh." Derek took a breath, interrogating Stiles' scent. For so long now, it hadn't registered as anything but 'Stiles', but now that he knew...there was an artificial edge that he recognized, now that he knew to look for it. "No, I, uh, didn't," he answered, aware that his silence was making Stiles' nervous. "Now that you've pointed it out, I can smell the T, but it's...it's very faint. And it's a subtle distinction. I think if not for a trans guy I knew once, one of Laura's friends, I wouldn't have been able to tell at all."

The longer Derek just sat there and talked at him, the more Stiles fidgeted, twisting a blanket between his hands and watching the other man carefully. His eyes had gone shuttered and just a little wary, like he wasn't sure what this all meant. Just because Derek had been cool with one of Laura's friends being trans, just because he called it T like he knew didn't mean he was ok with dating a trans guy. Oh shit. Were they dating for like half a second there and Stiles hadn't noticed? "So um...is that ok? I mean with the kissing stuff that was happening there. For a minute."

Derek's heart stuttered at the hesitation in Stiles' voice. Had he...oh shit, he had. He'd got caught up in understanding this new facet of Stiles and completely forgotten why it had come up in the first place. He untangled Stiles' hands from the blanket and kissed them, then kissed his lips lightly. "It's absolutely okay," he assured Stiles. "I told you I loved you, didn't I? And this is you." He let go of Stiles' hands to brush his thumb over Stiles' cheek, willing Stiles to see the sincerity in his eyes. "I love you," Derek murmured, and kissed him again.

****

Tension bled out of his body like someone had put a pin in him and Stiles smiled, leaning into the kisses and licking his way into Derek's mouth slowly. He didn't have enough air in his lungs, enough time to pull away and return the words, spin them around to face Derek, so he just kept kissing and kissing until he was completely breathless with it, totally in Derek's lap now and plastering himself to the older man. Tilting his body down just a little, he made a soft noise of need and pressed his hips hard against Derek's.

Derek rolled his hips back against Stiles', his cock hard in his jeans. He could feel the warmth and softness there, so different from what he would have expected only a few minutes ago, but...perfect. He slipped his hands down to Stiles' hips, slid his fingertips under Stiles' shirt. "Is this okay?" he gasped between kisses, freeing up Stiles' mouth to answer by shifting his own to Stiles' jaw, his neck, where his pulse pressed so fast and hot against his skin, against Derek's lips.

The press of a warm mouth on his neck had Stiles gasping softly, his fingers clutching at Derek's hair and tugging a little harder than he'd actually intended but hell, you couldn't really blame the guy, right? Squirming in Derek's lap, pressing down into the hard ridge of the older man's dick, Stiles oscillated between lust-drunk grinding and the momentary stab of not-quite-right when he didn't have an erection of his own to press into Derek. "Yeah." Breathless, concentrating on the lust part instead of the missing a dick part, he shuddered and shoved his hand into his sweatpants. "Yeah, this is more than ok, just gimme..." Whining softly when he felt Derek's teeth on his neck, he finally got his packer out of his briefs and tossed it...somewhere with a soft noise of relief, grinding down harder and closer now that there wasn't a lump of silicon between them.

Derek bucked upwards as Stiles ground harder against him, the pressure perfect against his dick. He slid his hands up under Stiles’ shirt, letting them range over his back, stroking down Stiles’ sides, learning the feel of him, skin smooth and hot under his hands. He nipped and sucked at Stiles’ neck, making him gasp, and kissed his way back to Stiles’ mouth, pulling him closer. “Fuck, Stiles,” he murmured, “Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long.” Everything was just...everything was perfect, and hot, and Derek had Stiles in his arms, and, “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gasped. “God. So good.”

Dancing and twisting under Derek's warm, callused hands, Stiles made breathy little noises of need into the other man's mouth and clung to him. "You shoulda said something.  Could've been doing this for years." Suddenly sick of not having his own hands on Derek's skin, he curled his fingers at the hem of the wolf's shirt and pulled up, leaving Derek's arm and head tangled in the henley. Ducking down, biting gently at his collarbone, Stiles dragged his blunt nails down Derek's sides. "Clothes off. Now. No more clothes ever. Clothes are dumb."

Derek arched into the scrape of Stiles’ nails, struggling out of his shirt, and reached for the hem of Stiles’. “Good plan,” he gasped. “You always make the best plans.” He stared hungrily at Stiles’ bare torso. “God, shirtless you is the best you,” he said absently, drinking in the sight of him, leaning in to kiss and nibble at the expanse of pale skin that was suddenly revealed, grasping at Stiles’ hips. When Stiles reached for the button on Derek’s jeans, he arched into it eagerly, but… “Wait,” he gasped. “Fuck, I so want to be naked with you, but, uh,” jesus it was hard to think like this, “not to assume, but if you’re planning on my naked dick going anywhere near your naked crotch, I’m guessing there should be a condom involved?”

The compliment had Stiles squirming in a strange combination of joy and self-consciousness. He didn't have nearly the muscle mass that Derek did, but he had broad shoulders he was proud of and trim hips. In the last two years alone he'd started to feel more at home in his body as it bulked up a little, for all that it was white as a sheet and covered from head to heel in moles. But then Derek was speaking again and Stiles had to lean back and blink hard to clear his mind, hands resting a little awkwardly on Derek's belly. "Shit...Ok, I'm fucking terrible because we haven't had the whole consent conversation, you should smack me." A deep breath, dragging one long hand down his face, and Stiles licked his lips. "I. um..." Another bright blush and he shuddered a bit. "I was gonna suck your dick?  I mean, if that's ok. I'm not...exactly super experienced with naked crotches and other people so I'm not even really sure what I'm comfortable with when it comes to you touching mine?" He felt like a moron, confessing his utter virginity to Derek while arousal throbbed heavily between his legs.

“That’s…” Fuck. Derek’s eyes were drawn inexorably to Stiles’ mouth. “That is absolutely okay. No smacking necessary.” It was hard to think with the mental images Stiles had conjured up. “Um...don’t worry about the, uh, the me not touching you yet thing. Or the inexperience thing. Anything…” Derek smiled widely, “Anything with you is perfect.” Then his smile became a smirk and he added. “Although your mouth on my dick is better than perfect. Your mouth drives me fucking nuts, Stiles, you are the sexiest goddamn man I know and you keep sticking things in your mouth and making me think things. It’s completely unfair.”

There was a moment when Stiles wondered if seeing Derek smile, easy and free, wouldn't break his heart every time he saw it. Then, grinning in return, he became a blur of motion, unbuttoning Derek's jeans and sliding the zipper down, rubbing his knuckles teasingly across the wolf's rigid flesh. "And this is why you wear sweat pants in the pillow fort. Easy access." Shimmying down, so he was sort of laying on Derek's legs, he rubbed his cheek against the older man's dick through his boxers before gently pulling it free. "And for the record, I'm not saying no to you touching me...just gotta take it slow." A few quick little kitten licks at the tip of Derek's cock and Stiles closed his eyes, sucking the flared head slowly between his lips.

Derek gasped as Stiles took in the head of his cock. “Fuck, that’s...that’s so good,” he murmured. “Jesus, Stiles, uh...could you...deeper? Or your hand?” he begged, clenching his fists to help him keep his control, to stop himself bucking up into the perfect warmth of Stiles’ mouth. Oh god, it was so amazing, better than he’d ever imagined it could be - and he’d imagined it a lot - because it was real, it was really happening, it was Stiles, holy shit, Stiles was sucking him, and it was all amazing and so fucking hot Derek was about to spontaneously combust. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” he moaned. “Oh - oh god, do that again, that was - fuck - amazing, wonderful, jesus…” He wasn’t entirely aware of what he was saying, just a long stream of praise and curses and moans as Stiles made him feel good. He reached down to stroke Stiles’ hair and caught a glimpse of him, mouth stretched around his dick, looking up at him under his lashes, eyes wide, and Derek almost came there and then. “I’m - close,” he gasped.

When Derek spoke, Stiles leaned back a little and released him with a soft pop, licking his lips slowly. "Dude, you need to be patient sometimes." Rolling his eyes at Derek, Stiles lowered his head again and took more of Derek into his mouth, rolling his tongue along the underside of Derek's cock and sucking hard. Bobbing slowly, he cupped Derek's balls in one hand and suddenly the big wolf was trembling and falling apart above him, moaning and making the most absolutely beautiful noises. Feeling powerful and strong, Stiles pushed Derek's cock deeper into his mouth, opening his jaw wide and pressing the head against the back of his throat. He'd been working on this, with toys and stuff, reducing his gag reflex a little at a time so he could just glance up and watch Derek tremble and shake. A quick blink and Stiles sucked all the harder, stroking Derek deep and fast with his mouth.

“Holy, holy shit,” Derek gasped, breathing hard. “You are - oh god - way too fucking - ah - good at this, Stiles.” He bit back a moan as Stiles took him deeper. “Jesus christ, that’s - oh, fuck - fucking unfair.” Stiles was just, just hot and wet and perfect around him, taking him so deep, and he was clearly experimenting but holy shit he learned fast, because that thing he was doing with his tongue was amazing, the way he was tracing the vein and shit, swirling his tongue around the head, and the sight of him was driving Derek insane because he was just so fucking hot like this, and…

It felt like Derek was holding back now, which was, to be perfectly honest, completely unacceptable in Stiles' mind. Huffing out a soft breath through his nose, Stiles sucked just a little harder, wrapping his fist around the base of Derek's dick and stroking in opposite time as his mouth. It felt good to have Derek inside of him like this, hot and heavy and thick.  Grounding, almost. And Stiles wanted to feel the older man come, to taste him in the back of his throat so every breath would bring Derek deeper into him for hours after they were done. Moaning softly at the thought, the noise vibrating down the length of Derek's dick, he twisted his wrist just a little, spit slick palm turning around the wolf's cock even as it stroked and he sucked like the world was going to end if he didn't make Derek come.

“Fuck,” Derek gasped when Stiles moaned around him. “Shit, Stiles,” he groaned as he came. He lay back for a moment, panting, stunned and boneless, before remembering Stiles on his knees in front of him. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Should have warned you before I came.” He pulled Stiles’ up into reach, kissing him deeply and appreciatively. “I can taste me on you,” he murmured. Stiles’ arousal still hung thick in the air, and after a moment, Derek began to intensify the kiss, letting his hands roam again, further down now, although he still avoided Stiles’ crotch. He really, really wanted to make Stiles come, but Stiles had asked him to go slow, so…”Tell me what you want?” he asked hesitantly. “I could just hold you while you get yourself off, or you could rub yourself on me, or I could touch you? I’d really like to make you feel as good as you just made me feel.”

So he flinched a little when he tasted Derek's come splashing against his tongue...what with it being his very first blow job, no one could blame him for that. He swallowed as quickly as he could, wiping a few drops from his lips with the back of his hand as Derek pulled him up. Laughing into the older man's mouth a little bit, he squirmed when Derek's hands went walking all over, grabbing and stroking and generally distracting him. Panting softly now, flushed and absolutely aching, Stiles licked his lips and sat back a bit, scrubbing his hand back through his hair. "I um...could you maybe try rimming me?" Glancing away, a little embarrassed, Stiles cleared his throat and blushed even brighter than before. "I've used toys and stuff in my ass, I'm pretty sure that'll be safe territory."

Derek smiled, delighted, at Stiles’ blush. “I’d love to do that for you,” he agreed. “Let me just grab some cling-wrap from the kitchen?” As a makeshift dental dam, it’d do, although he wouldn’t exactly recommend it. “You just lie there and look beautiful, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.” Luckily, Derek knew where most things were in the Stilinski kitchen by now, so it really did just take a minute to find the cling-wrap and tear off a large enough piece. When he came back, he found Stiles lying on his front in the middle of the blanket fort, rolling his hips against the bedding beneath him. “I swear, you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Derek murmured reverently, looking at Stiles naked back, ass, and legs stretched out pale and gorgeous in front of him.

Momentarily confused before he figured out what the cling wrap was for, Stiles stripped down and sort of...wallowed in the middle of the pillow fort until Derek returned. When the other man started to speak, he shoved his face into a blanket and made a soft noise of frustrated humor, his spine tensing for a moment. "Dude, you are a talker once you get going. If I'd known that kissing you would get the walls to come crumbling down, I would have done it ages ago." Shifting his weight a little, Stiles got up on his knees and leaned backwards a bit, his thighs spread. Below the tempting pucker of skin he'd asked Derek to lick, he was slick and hot, the engorged length of his clit longer and firmer than it had been before he'd started HRT. "Can I ask maybe a dumb question?" Glancing back over his shoulder at Derek with worry flickering across his features, Stiles forged ahead without stopping. "Are you worried about catching a disease from me?"

Derek settled himself behind Stiles, gazing hungrily at the ass in front of him. “Not at all,” he answered easily, settling the clingwrap where he wanted it. “I’m sure you’re healthy, and also, werewolf. Assholes are a bit gross, that’s all.” It wasn’t like Stiles had been expecting this and washed himself for it, after all. That didn’t have to stop them, though. Derek leaned in, kissing Stiles’ hole lightly. “Tell me what you like,” he told Stiles, then leaned in again. He hadn’t really done this before, not much, so his movements were tentative, experimental. He licked around the rim, lightly, then more firmly when he heard Stiles’ response.

Laughter shaking his shoulders, Stiles relaxed a little bit and closed his eyes. "Ok." The gentle kiss made him gasp softly, but it was the feeling of Derek's tongue, warm and firm, that had Stiles sagging against the pillows with a moan deep in his belly. Gripping a blanket tight in his long fingers, Stiles did his very best to hold still but everything felt...too much, like his nerves were on fire and he was about to explode into millions of shards of pleasure.  "D-der, please." Not sure what he was asking for, Stiles began to pant, hips bumping backwards.

Derek shuddered when he heard Stiles’ pleading, and pressed closer, licking and sucking at Stiles’ hole, letting his stubble brush against Stiles’ cheeks. Experimentally, he pressed the tip of his tongue into Stiles, and when Stiles jolted, he repeated the motion. Stiles’ gasps and moans were starting to make him hard again, but he ignored his own growing erection to focus on Stiles’ pleasure, the way Stiles had focused on his not long ago. He began to thrust with his tongue, setting up a rhythm, and when Stiles began to push back towards him, he hummed against Stiles’ hole.

It was good, very good, but it wasn't nearly enough and it was driving Stiles crazy just lingering on the edge like this. Flopping down onto the pillows, his chest heaving as he gulped at air, he glanced back at Derek, flushed and needy. "So. Um...could you try...?"  Stiles, brash and bold Stiles that never hesitated to pick a fight or jump in to save someone, was struggling to ask Derek to lick his other hole, to see if he liked that any better. Rolling onto his back, he hesitated for a moment before spreading his legs, watching Derek with wary, unsure eyes.

Derek shivered in anticipation, but held himself back at the look in Stiles’ eyes. He moved slowly, giving Stiles time to warn him away if anything was...bad, somehow, but move he did, until he was kissing Stiles again, tasting him this time - he tasted perfect. Derek licked at Stiles’ wet, warm opening, then higher, to his clit. “Can I…” he started, then trailed off. “Can I suck you?” he asked. “Or did you want…?” Derek didn’t really know how to finish that sentence. It was difficult, he was realising, to have a conversation about sex without knowing how Stiles preferred to describe his anatomy.

Tension bled away from his long body the moment that Derek's mouth touched his skin, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine and making his limbs go liquid. Blinking a few times when Derek spoke, Stiles lifted his head and stared at the other man, trying to parse the words into something he understood even as his brain continued to melt. "I um...I just call it my pussy, dude. And my clit." Blushing again, he chuckled nervously. "But the sucking thing, that sounds like a really great idea. A+. Let's do that."

Derek groaned, and moved in to lick at Stiles again. He swirled his tongue around Stiles’ clit - longer than ones Derek had seen before - and sucked on it lightly. When Stiles quivered beneath him, he sucked harder, circling Stiles’ clit with his tongue, pressing on the tip of it. He drew back for a moment and blew across it, letting the air cool it, then kissed it again. Stiles was moaning above him, gasping and swearing and bucking up against Derek’s hold on his hips. Derek kissed and licked his way up to Stiles’ hipbone, to taste the sweat there.

Thrashing a bit the moment Derek's mouth was on him, Stiles positively keened. Tangling his fingers tightly in Derek's dark hair, tugging a little, he tried to pull, to hold the wolf closer and harder against his skin. But then his mouth was shifting up towards other skin and Stiles panted quiet pleas into his own shoulder, shaking with need. "Der - Derek. Please, please don't stop, I c-can't..." Grinding his hips up just to get some fucking friction, pressure, anything, Stiles moaned and felt everything inside him coil up tighter than before.

Swallowing his own moan at Stiles’ begging and the fingers tugging in his hair, Derek moved back to Stiles’ crotch, drawing circles with his tongue, slower and then faster, around Stiles’ clit, humming as Stiles ground against him. He could hear Stiles’ breathing speeding up, knew he must be close, and when he thought he was right on the edge, took Stiles’ clit in his mouth again and sucked.

His heels planted hard in the pillows and bedding below them and Stiles arched up off the bed as Derek sucked, his entire body falling apart with a few gasped shivers. Desperate, gulping for oxygen, he whimpered and clawed at the back of Derek's neck a little as he came in great shuddering motions of his lean body.

****

When Stiles collapsed under him, Derek rolled off him, fisted himself a few times, and came again, then lay back, panting. “Was that what you wanted?” he asked at last. Because it had been pretty damn perfect for him. He looked down at himself. “I should get a washcloth,” he muttered.

Grumbling softly, Stiles nodded and reached out, grabbing at Derek and clinging just a little bit. "You're not going anywhere, Sourwolf. Stay." Still panting a little bit, trying to remember how to breathe, Stiles kissed Derek's shoulder lightly and hid his face a little bit. "Yeah...that was...amazing."

“Good,” Derek murmured, kissing the top of Stiles’ head. “You deserve amazing. You deserve perfect.” He smoothed a loving hand down Stiles’ back, trying to convey everything with his touch that he was so terrible expressing with words, and looked around. They’d made a thorough mess of the pillow fort. And...Derek started laughing. At Stiles’ indignant look, he explained, “We never, never paused the movie.”

"That's what the rewind button is for, loser." His voice was soft, fond as he curled closer to Derek's heat, shivering a little as he realized he was naked and no longer flushed with pleasure. Grabbing at one of the blankets around them and wrapping it around them both, Stiles closed his eyes and hid his face against Derek's chest.

In that moment, everything was just...wonderful. Curled up, warm and sated and safe, with Stiles - Stiles who loved him - in his arms...Derek sighed happily. He didn't think he'd felt like this...ever, really. "I love you," he murmured, kissing the top of Stiles' head. "You're amazing."

Squirming happily, Stiles grinned against Derek's chest. "I'm never gonna get tired of hearing that. I might make you hire a skywriter for my birthday or something." Floating in the happy quasi-exhaustion of the minutes after orgasm, Stiles brushed his lips across Derek's skin slowly, absently mouthing at one of his nipples.

Derek gasped. "Stiles, I may have just come, but unless you're planning on another round..." he warned. His refractory period was ordinarily good, and being with Stiles just made everything...more. He would kind of like to enjoy the afterglow for a bit, though.

Rolling his eyes a little bit, Stiles huffed and flopped back, grabbing at the remote so he could get back to the place where they'd stopped watching and started talking. And then making out. And then having sex, because they'd totally just had sex and that was neat. "I'm gonna torture you. Tie you down and lick you all over and make you beg me." It was said almost indignantly, pouting as if Derek had taken away his favorite toy.

Derek lay stock still for a moment, dumbstruck by the image. "Fuck, Stiles, you'll be the death of me," he muttered. Then he looked at Stiles' face and couldn't help but laugh. He reached over, tracing Stiles' lips with a finger. "You're very cute when you pout," he said quietly, admiringly.

Nipping at the tip of Derek's finger playfully, Stiles was quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully before speaking. He didn't move, kept his ear pressed to Derek's chest so he could hear the other man's heartbeat under his cheek. "If you like the tie-the-wolf-down-and-lick-him-to-death plan, I've got some other ideas I think you're gonna love." Licking his lips, his fingers tightened against Derek's hips slowly. "Sex in the Jeep is at the absolute top of that list. Also phone sex. Making you listen to me get myself off while you can't get here to help."

“Oh god,” said Derek, his voice strangled. “You’re...shit, Stiles. That’s...where do you even get these ideas?” He could just imagine, hearing Stiles all breathless and moaning and amazing, and god. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

"Very active imagination and constant porn consumption."  Shrugging easily, his grin hidden against Derek's chest, Stiles turned his head and glanced up at the older man, amber eyes dancing with humor.  "What about you, sourwolf?  What do you want?"

“Anything you’ll give me,” Derek answered without thinking, then blushed. It was such a cheesy thing to say, but at the same time…”I, uh, meant that. Really. I want you as much as you’ll let me, in any way you’ll have me, with anything you’ll give me.”

Rolling his eyes a little, Stiles punched Derek's shoulder gently and sat up.  "Okay, but do you like...have any preferences?"  Blushing a bit himself, Stiles cleared his throat.  "Because I want to make sure that you're enjoying yourself, you know?  Can't be about me all the time, and you've got this nasty penchant for denying yourself things because you think you don't deserve them."

Derek looked away a bit. “I haven’t really had many chances to, um, explore what I like,” he explained awkwardly. “I’ll tell you what I like as we go - like your mouth was, holy shit Stiles that was amazing - but I don’t really know so much what to ask for.” He made a face and added, “But don’t ride me. That won’t end well.”

"Blowjobs are A-plus, got it."  Smirking, Stiles reached out and grabbed Derek's hand, hoping to get the other man's attention but not really trying to push it.  "When you say you don't want me to ride you...I'm gonna like...need a little more than that, I think?"

Derek closed his eyes, steeling himself. "Me on my back and you...sitting on me," he clarified. "It doesn't matter so much what we're, uh, doing, but..." he took a steadying breath, "...bad memories. I don't...you don't..." He fumbled for words. "...it wouldn't be pleasant. For either of us."

Quiet for a long moment, Stiles squeezed Derek's hands hard in his own and leaned in to press a kiss to the wolf's cheek.  "You got it, Sourwolf."  Hoping that an easy grin would smooth things over, he crowded into Derek's personal space a little and draped one arm around the other's shoulders.  "How do you feel about me sitting in your lap during non-sexytimes?  Because I'm a big fan of feeling those melon-smugglers you call arms around me."

Stiles' touch made things a lot better. Derek raised his eyebrows. "Melon-smugglers?" he said skeptically. "Really, Stiles?" He couldn't suppress his smile, though. Stiles was ridiculous, and for some reason Derek found it utterly endearing. More seriously, he added, "When we're both sitting it's okay, especially if it's non-sexual. It's the...power thing." Derek struggled to explain the way someone could loom over him, making him feel trapped and small and... Derek took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm himself down, grounding himself with the feeling of Stiles in his arms.

"Have you seen these things?!?" Poking one of Derek's arms with a sharp finger, Stiles smiled and curled in closer to Derek's warmth, holding him tightly. "You just tap out if you need to, kay?  Let me know if I'm doing something that makes you uncomfortable and we'll stop, no questions asked."

Derek couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and kissed Stiles thoroughly, deeply, meaningfully. When he finally pulled back, he murmured, stroking Stiles’ cheek with his thumb, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that?”

Stiles smiled back. “I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual.” **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Huge, huge thanks to crookedcig, who wrote Stiles for this one. It was a fantastic story, and I really really loved writing it.
> 
> I hope you guys all enjoyed it too!


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